readsfreenovel Chapter 243 : Princess Yeongan
Chapter 243 : Princess Yeongan
Admiral Heo Chung-won kept his mouth shut as the Emperor grabbed his wrist. A suffocating silence fell over the hall.The Emperor’s gaze, directed at the Admiral, gleamed cold and sharp—even in the darkness.
After spreading his sensory qi to scan his surroundings for a moment, Heo Chung-won soon spoke in a calm tone.
“You’ve finally awakened, Your Majesty.”
“I asked you what you’re doing.”
The Emperor’s body was referred to as the Jade Body.
Even just touching it could be deemed a grave offense.
After a short breath, the Admiral replied.
“Who else but I could stay up through the night to protect Your Majesty’s jade body? Your breath was rough, and cold sweat soaked through your body, so I made preparations in case you were running a fever.”
As he spoke, the Admiral pointed to a corner of the bedchamber.
There, a golden basin filled with water and a wet towel lay.
The Emperor looked toward it, then responded in a dry voice.
“There are physicians and palace maids. Why you?”
“Forgive me for saying this, but…”
The Admiral briefly made a troubled expression before speaking again with a sigh-laced tone.
“They too have tended to Your Majesty day and night for over three months. It seems they’ve exhausted their strength. Of course, if commanded, they would care for you with all their loyalty…”
The Admiral deliberately trailed off.
I am the one who sacrifices rest out of loyalty to you, even at this late hour before dawn.
I am the one who takes the burden so the loyal will not harbor resentment toward you.
That was what the Admiral was saying.
The eunuchs cared for all members of the imperial family. The Admiral, too, had served and cared for this Emperor by his side for decades.
The aging Emperor looked at the Admiral with heavy eyes and said,
“Bring food.”
“I shall summon porridge, Your Majesty.”
“I said food. Something proper.”
“Your Majesty, if you eat greasy food so suddenly after lying down for over three months…”
“I’ll regain my strength.”
The Admiral fell silent.
Facing the Emperor’s gaze, the Admiral instinctively understood.
‘This is not good.’
Things were taking a strange turn.
That was not the gaze of an Emperor who had trusted his Admiral for a lifetime.
The Admiral bowed his head.
“As you command.”
---
The news of the Emperor’s awakening stirred the entire imperial palace.
The chefs of the Imperial Kitchen began preparing food that wouldn’t burden the Emperor’s organs yet could rapidly replenish his strength.
“H-He’s already finished it all!”
A palace maid burst into the Imperial Kitchen, utterly flustered.
The chefs continued sweating profusely, cooking more and more food.
Like a man possessed by a starving ghost, the Emperor devoured the meals served by the Imperial Kitchen at a terrifying pace.
“H-Hurry and bring it out!”
One chef handed over a deep, wide bowl filled with a whole chicken in broth.
The maid hurriedly took the bowl and rushed back toward the Emperor’s bedchamber.
.
.
.
The Emperor was eating so ravenously it would make even gluttonous beggars recoil.
Beef, chicken, pork, fish—he consumed all manner of meat.
Bones piled up beside his table. Though palace maids hurried to serve and clean, they couldn’t keep up with the Emperor’s voracious pace.
It was only natural—his body had only taken porridge and gruel for over three months.
A court physician cautiously approached.
“Y-Your Majesty. May I first take your pulse…?”
“That won’t be necessary. You failed to diagnose anything for three months, and now you think to play the physician?”
“I-I have committed a grave offense, Your Majesty.”
“Enough. Leave me.”
The Emperor waved his hand as if swatting away a nuisance.
The physician withdrew, and the Emperor picked up the chicken with his bare hands and tore into it once again.
The Admiral silently watched him for a long moment.
‘Of all times, now…’
The Princess was away.
She had gone to Jiangsu Province, to Nanjing, to meet Ha Joo-myeong. Though a letter had been sent the moment the Emperor awoke, word likely hadn’t reached her yet.
Just as the Emperor’s long meal was finally coming to an end, he turned to the Admiral and asked,
“What is the Commander doing?”
By Commander, he meant the head of the Royal Guards.
Currently, the Eastern Depot was blocking the Royal Guards from entering the bedchamber. It was under the pretense of protecting the Emperor’s emotional state by keeping armed men away for the time being.
Naturally, the Eastern Depot and the Royal Guards were rival agencies competing for the Emperor’s favor.
The Admiral answered,
“Upon hearing of Your Majesty’s awakening, he’s likely reinforcing security around the palace.”
The Emperor waking after three months was a significant event—enough to throw the palace and the world into disarray.
It was natural for the Royal Guards, tasked with imperial security, to bolster their presence.
Of course, the Emperor was well aware of the palace’s inner workings. He understood that the Commander’s failure to appear likely meant the Eastern Depot was blocking him.
The Emperor before his collapse might have let the power struggle be. Favoring neither side had been his method of maintaining balance.
But now, the Emperor said something contrary to the Admiral’s expectations.
“Summon Jang Gyeong.”
Jang Gyeong was the name of the Commander of the Royal Guards.
The Admiral’s tightly held brows briefly twitched.
‘He’s deliberately empowering the Royal Guards?’
For the Emperor to refer to someone by name rather than title was a mark of familiarity. The fact he said this in front of the Admiral was telling.
The Admiral sensed something off in the Emperor’s decision.
‘He’s suspicious of me.’
Instead of panic, the Admiral grew calm.
Had he been the type to fear, to flounder, or to be confused in the face of crisis—he would have never risen to the post of Admiral in the first place.
“I shall summon him at once.”
The Admiral spoke those words and soon disappeared with composed steps.
---
Jiangsu Province, Hongze Lake.
Unlike the bustling Lake Tai, Hongze Lake—fed by the Grand Canal—was serene and still, as though it existed solely for its owner.
A massive estate, as if it had bought out the lake's scenic splendor in its entirety. There, Ha Joo-myeong and the current generation’s Princess, Ju Se-gyeong, were together.
The man and woman lay side by side on a single bed, talking.
Ju Se-gyeong looked at Ha Joo-myeong, almost as if admiring his face, and said,
“What has you so deep in thought?”
“Who knows. So many thoughts are crowding my head, I’m not sure where to begin.”
His tone was far too irreverent for someone speaking to a Princess, yet she seemed unbothered.
With a soft smile, she said,
“Even if it takes all night, tell me everything, slowly, one by one.”
Ha Joo-myeong stared up at the ceiling for a moment, then let out a dry laugh and began.
“First, I was thinking about Eonsa Prefecture. The development rights auction is coming up, and I have an uneasy feeling about it.”
“Men always worry about pointless things. The auction will proceed under the Crown Prince’s authority, and that child would pretend to die if I so much as asked. What is there to worry about?”
“I’m simply the type to worry a lot. After that, I was thinking about my dead siblings.”
“…Are you alright?”
There was a fleeting trace of sympathy in the Princess’s voice.
To her, Ha Joo-myeong appeared strong on the outside but was a man with deep feelings and a soft heart.
Of course, she was gravely mistaken.
As Ha Joo-myeong recalled his two siblings, what ran through his mind was how much easier things might’ve been if he had killed them a bit earlier.
Naturally, he said something quite different aloud.
“What could I have done if that was as far as their fate would take them? If I ever meet them again, I plan to say I’m sorry for not taking better care of them.”
“They’d understand. They were born of the Myriad Gold Manor’s bloodline—surely as clever as you. What else were you thinking?”
The Princess quickly steered the conversation away.
Inwardly, she hoped he would bring up something related to her.
But contrary to her wish, Ha Joo-myeong mentioned another name.
“Jin Seong-un. I’ve been thinking about that fellow.”
“You mean Guest Dragon.”
The Princess nodded.
She was briefly displeased that it wasn’t her name he’d mentioned, but when she recalled Guest Dragon’s handsome face, her mood melted like thawing snow.
The Princess, after all, had a thing for good-looking men.
With the Princess in his arms, Ha Joo-myeong smiled subtly.
“He’s an odd one.”
“He is, indeed.”
That was how the Princess had seen Jin Seong-un as well.
Even in the face of overwhelming imperial power, or the Admiral’s unmatched martial prowess, he stood proud.
A man’s charm, she believed, came from such composure—from confidence and poise.
That was also the reason she was drawn to Ha Joo-myeong.
“Does he trouble your thoughts?”
“Yes. When I assess a person, I tend to look beyond appearances and into their essential desires. All the answers lie there.”
Background, values, purpose, personality—all of it is embedded in one’s core desires. In Ha Joo-myeong’s mind, the beginning of all relationships was either in fulfilling those desires or deliberately disrupting them.
But with Jin Seong-un, he couldn’t determine what the man truly wanted, what to undermine, or what to provide in order to control him.
That very uncertainty was what made Jin Seong-un linger so stubbornly in Ha Joo-myeong’s mind.
The Princess looked up at him curiously and asked,
“Then, can you see mine too?”
Ha Joo-myeong looked down at her.
The Princess flinched for a moment at those emotionless, yet fathomless eyes.
Then Ha Joo-myeong let out a faint chuckle and said,
“Of course.”
“Then tell me.”
Many thoughts circled in Ha Joo-myeong’s mind.
The Princess’s noble title was Yeongan—Eternal Peace.
But contrary to that name, Princess Yeongan desired turmoil in the imperial family.
She wished for the Emperor to die and for the Crown Prince not to succeed the throne.
She endlessly doubted even the Admiral of the Eastern Depot who stood beside her—and doubted again.
Princess Yeongan, at her core, did not trust people. Or rather, it was more accurate to say she could not trust them.
She was so filled with greed that she refused to yield even the smallest things to those around her.
Like Empress Wu Zetian in history, she wished to become the Empress herself—cutting down the Admiral of the Eastern Depot, the Commander of the Royal Guards, the Chief Scholar of the Hanlin Academy, and even the Crown Prince, her own blood.
She dreamed of clutching the entire empire, the imperial household, in her own hands.
Ha Joo-myeong could see that desire reflected so clearly in her eyes.
With a gentle smile, he said,
“You seem to be looking at the same place I am.”
A vague answer.
Within it lay both truth and falsehood.
Depending on how one interpreted it, it could feel like a sign of kinship—or an impious provocation.
The Princess studied Ha Joo-myeong’s face and mulled over the words before letting out a deflating chuckle.
“You’re a slippery snake.”
“I’ll take that as praise.”
“It is praise. In any case, Jin Seong-un will soon reveal his true colors. All the merchants’ financial routes have been severed—there are only a few choices left for a man cornered like that.”
Either wither away in despair like a flower by the roadside, or accept reality, come crawling, and swear submission.
That was the trap Ha Joo-myeong had been tightening around the Seong-un Inn. And yet, he couldn’t shake the feeling that Jin Seong-un would somehow find a different path. It was a worry—and a curious expectation.
Just as the man and woman were about to sink deeper into the bed—
Crash—!
Urgent footsteps echoed through the corridor, shattering the calm of the estate. Even before the Princess could frown at the disturbance, a panicked voice screamed from beyond the door.
“...P-Princess! His Majesty has arrived!”
Instantly, Princess Yeongan and Ha Joo-myeong sprang to their feet. Before they could even finish straightening their clothes, the sound of heavy, imposing footsteps was already at their door.